


Landing

by upriserseven



Series: C-53 (or, maybe, Home) [2]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 11:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upriserseven/pseuds/upriserseven
Summary: Louisiana is the only place you ever fumble a landing, and the childish part of your brain gets so damn mad, because you don’t want Maria to think you’re not good at this. Logically, you know that’s why you screw it up, because you’re just too excited to see her, to see them both.





	Landing

**Author's Note:**

> So, wow. I haven't written in two years, and now this is my third fic in three days and I cannot thank you guys enough for the response to both Purple and Motherflerken. 
> 
> I had a heap of ideas for Carol's visits back, so I've decided to publish them as a series. You don't have to read Purple to make sense of this one, but it is technically a sequel, so in an ideal world you'd read them both.

Louisiana is the only place you ever fumble a landing, and the childish part of your brain gets so damn mad, because you don’t want Maria to think you’re not good at this. Logically, you know that’s why you screw it up, because you’re just too excited to see her, to see them both. And it’s excited but it’s also nervous and there could never be any doubt over just how human you are when you’re headed there, because every notable emotion cycles through you from the minute Talos tells you, with that look in his eye, that they can probably spare you for a few days, until the moment you land kind of funny and maybe definitely end up on your back on the ground.

You haven’t seen her yet, she’s still inside, but you know she’s seen you and you feel like flying back up just to try again, to show her that you can do it properly, but it’s not worth wasting another second, you can just do a better job next time.

“Smooth.” You’d love to retaliate, to snark back or say you can leave, if she’s not impressed. At the very least, you’d love to wink at her and say something about how you’re always smooth, but you just don’t care enough because Maria’s looking at you like that and you’re _home_.

It’s only been a few months, you’ve decided you’re going to try and be back at least twice every rotation. Every year, you think. Year. You haven’t shared this plan, not really, because you’re worried that there will be a year you can’t manage it, and you don’t want to break a promise, but you have said you’ll be back whenever you can, and that seems to be enough for them. So, it’s been a few months, you think maybe five at the most, and when you’re out there it feels like you haven’t seen them in so long. But now? Well right now Maria is in front of you and part of you (your heart, if you’re going to get mushy about it), feels like it just saw Maria this morning, when she brought you coffee in bed and laughed about finally being awake before you.

The last visit, your first real visit, had been great. You’d finally had the chance to confirm what you already knew, what the two of you were to each other all those years ago, and you’d spent the following day playing catch-up with Monica, eating and laughing and remembering what family feels like. You’d talked, a little, about Monica’s realisation about your relationship, but you’d all avoided putting too much weight on the topic. But she’s eleven (well, she’s twelve now, and you know you missed the actual day but you’re hoping she’s okay with that), so you shared with her, and you were never going to be a traditional family but you’re going to be something, and that’s all you need.

So you’re here, and it’s been a few months but Maria is standing there, arms folded and eyebrow raised, and suddenly you realise you’re just staring at her, so you finally get your feet to _move_ and it’s the most natural thing in the world to pull her close to you and kiss her temple softly.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. Believe it or not, you’re just in time.” And you don’t get a chance to ask what you’re just in time for, because she’s dragging you inside and Monica is running at you full speed and you’re so, so thankful for your strength right now because you don’t even flinch when she jumps at you and you know they’re both secretly impressed.

“You’re back!”

“Told you I would be.”

“We were _just_ about to watch a movie, you’re just in time!”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Why don’t we let Carol change out of her” Maria pauses, and you know it’s because she wants to call it a space suit but can’t quite say it because honestly, it sounds so stupid and you all know it “her _uniform_ , and we’ll start the movie in a minute, yeah?” Monica is nodding, she’s so enthusiastic you place your hand on her head to slow it down, and once it does you kiss her forehead and promise you’ll be back.

She gives you pyjama pants, the same ones you’d kicked off in the middle of the night last time because you really weren’t used to the Louisiana heat (truthfully, neither of you had minded the skin to skin contact when Maria did the same, and the memory makes you smile) and the black Heart shirt you’d worn a few months ago. You know the Nine Inch Nails one isn’t really yours, and you like this one better because it feels more worn, but you still see the white shirt poking out of a bottom drawer in Maria’s dresser.

The suit never feels uncomfortable, despite what people think. You’re used to it, and actually it’s moulded to you in a way that it’s like a second skin. But this, these pyjamas, they’re the height of comfort, and you realise it’s probably the lived experience of them as much as it is the fabrics and the shapes, but you love them and you know you’d happily spend the rest of your days in this house, in your Earth pyjamas, if it were possible. But it’s not.

It’s not like last time, and Maria stays there while you change out of the suit. It feels so incredibly normal and so electrifying all at once. (You hope not literally electrifying, and your brain suddenly conjures the stupid idea of being unable to hide any arousal because you might start _glowing_ and you’re trying so, so hard not to laugh.) She stays there and you’re not looking at her but you know she’s looking at you, and when you eventually meet her eyes she smiles, and you’re relieved that she doesn’t look away. Just stands up, runs her hands from your shoulders to your fingertips, and says “perfect.”

Monica says the exact same thing when you return, and you’ve been back less than an hour but your face already hurts from smiling. She wants you to sit next to her, and there’s no place you’d rather be than on this couch, sharing a giant bowl of popcorn and watching a Disney movie, listening to Monica quietly sing along (because she’s twelve, and she says she’s a little too old to be singing along, you know she wants to act like she’s a little bit too cool for this, but the smile on her face and the way she clings to you the darker parts of the film says otherwise.)

It’s a Friday, because Maria didn’t say anything last time but you realised that Monica is a kid and kids have to go to school in the week, so you tried to plan better this time and now barring any kind of emergency, you have this evening and then the whole weekend with them. You don’t have to leave until Sunday night. Maybe even Monday, and you can see Monica off to school and kiss Maria goodbye and you will, for just a second, be like any other family.

Kissing Maria is something you haven’t done yet, and by the time the movie is over and Monica is falling asleep with her head on your chest, you’re staring at her (your… something? You’d decided not to really assign a name to this, considering the circumstances, but Talos calls her your girlfriend and Soren calls her your _wife_ and you know she’s not really either of those things, but you also know she’s those things and more.) Your eyes meet and you know she’s thinking about it too, and you’re both wondering why you didn’t just do it straight away, but you guess maybe it still doesn’t come as naturally as it once did. The back of the VHS case says that film was eighty-two minutes, but you’ve been waiting to kiss Maria the whole time, so eighty-two minutes feels like a lie, because really, it’s been months.

“I think it might be time for bed, Lieutenant.” Monica mumbles something against your shoulder and grips you a little harder and you can’t believe all the time you have to spend without them, even when you know it’s necessary. You know it’s not the same, but you think about Talos and his daughter, and as much as you cherish them both, you know that sometimes you feel a bitterness when you watch them together. “I’m still going to be here tomorrow, I swear. We have the whole weekend if you want it.” Her eyes shoot open at that, and both of your girls are looking at you with so much love you almost want to cry.

“The whole weekend? Really?”

“If you want, yeah. I don’t have to be back til Monday.” You weren’t sure you were staying the extra night, but you guess you are now because it just slipped out.

It works, because she’s confident now that you’ll still be there tomorrow, but you don’t miss the look in her eyes when you kiss her forehead and say goodnight, like she’s committing you to memory just in case of some intergalactic emergency in the night. You’re already up and taking the dishes through to the kitchen when she’s saying goodnight to her mom, but you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet waiting for Maria to follow you in.

You can’t even wait for her to make it all the way to you, so you meet her halfway after unceremoniously dumping the bowls and glasses on the countertop, and you know that nothing about this kiss is particularly graceful or gentle but you can’t even bring yourself to care.

“I really should’ve done that the second I saw you.” You’ve pulled away, but barely, like you can’t stand to be more than a few inches away from her lips.

“Yes, you should.”

“You could’ve done it too, you know.”

“Yeah, I should’ve when you didn’t.” Not that it matters now, because you’re kissing and this is really all you need from these trips, to spend time with Monica and to hold Maria and oddly, being home with them reminds you why you have to spend so much time away. It reminds you why you have to fight so hard for other people’s families. Because it goes unspoken, but you wonder if some day you’ll need someone to help you fight for yours.

That day, if it will ever exist, is not today. So right now, you focus on the way you can feel Maria smiling against your lips and the way her fingers trail across your shoulders. But then she’s poking at you and complaining about all the tension you’re holding there and _of course she is_ , because you remember that she’s always complained about you not taking care of yourself properly and apparently that’s never going to change. (Because she loves you, you remember. She loves you. Maria Rambeau loves you, what more could you ever want?)

“Well, there’s not really a lot of opportunity to relieve tension up in the galaxies.” You didn’t mean it like that, but you’re expecting her to make a joke or waggle her eyebrows or something. You don’t expect the look you see in her eyes when they meet yours, and suddenly you’re nervous again because you didn’t do this last time. You kissed, a lot, and you slept next to each other and you held her and okay, maybe your hands trailed over her skin a little but that’s all. The way she’s looking at you is pretty unmistakable, and it’s definitely not that you don’t want to it just, it’s been so long and how can you be superhuman and do all the things you do out there, but be terrified of this, right here, with the woman you love?

As if she knows, she tries to make you feel better, and it’s the softest, smallest, most chaste kiss the two of you have shared (you think maybe _ever_ , even though you don’t remember every single one) but it does something to put you at ease and shoot pure lust through you all at once, and if you were cursed with glowing when you were turned on, she’d probably be blinded by now. You’re not glowing though, so you just blind her with a smile instead.

“Wanna help?” It’s so, so corny and you know it but you want to try and take the pressure off, so it’s a relief when she smiles back at you and tugs on your arm to pull you towards the bedroom. Monica’s probably not asleep yet, so she reminds you to be as quiet as you can, but you’re proud to say you’ve already remembered that and maybe some of what it means to live with a kid has come back to you. Not that this is your favourite thing about living with a kid (which, you feel terrible even thinking it, but if this is going to be your first time with Maria in years, you’re a little sad you’re not going to be able to really hear her.)

You wonder if maybe your worst nightmare is coming true, when she pulls back and looks at your hands, but you stare at them too and they’re not glowing, they’re not even sparking, so you’re safe. But she looks at you and she seems to feel stupid for even asking, so when the words leave her lips you don’t really know what to make of them.

“You’re not going to like, set me on fire or anything right?” She’s half laughing but you can tell it’s a genuine concern, and it’s not like you can really answer. I mean, you haven’t had sex since you’ve had your full power, and only a handful times on Hala when you were limited, so you suppose you don’t technically know that you won’t, but that doesn’t really seem like the right thing to say.

“Only metaphorically?” It’s a joke, but neither of you laugh. You’re pleased with little eye roll you get, though, so you think maybe she feels better. “Honestly? I am about ninety-five percent certain I will not be setting you on fire. If the five percent is too much, and you don’t want to risk it, I get it, but I’m really, really hoping the odds are good enough for you.”

“Really, really hoping, huh?”

“Really, really, _really_ hoping.”

It’s all it takes, because her hands are on your bare skin under your shirt, and you’re vaguely aware that you’re not wasting time and just pulling hers off completely, and you know that this moment right here is the moment you’re finally Carol Danvers again. You’ve remembered it all for almost a year now, and last time you were here and you’d found that perfect balance between your lives, but you know that this feeling, with Maria’s skin smooth against your palms and her breath touching your face, is completely, undoubtedly Carol Danvers. There’s not a hint of Vers in sight and you’ve never felt less conflicted about that. This is your home, and that’s never been more obvious.

So much of it feels like a blur of clothes being pulled off, of skin touching skin and of your heart racing, but it also feels so fucking slow. Like it was three seconds ago that you kissed her, but it’ll be a hundred years until you finally touch her and maybe the total contradiction is just another part of what it means to be Carol, but you wouldn’t give that up for anything. You’re home. You’re home and it’s so perfectly clear right now what that means, with Maria pulling you on to the bed on top of her, and your body fitting against hers perfectly.

Home, you think, is the way it feels when your fingers slip inside her and she breathes your name in your ear. Home is the way your body knows exactly what to do, no matter how long it’s been, and home is the way your shoulders are no longer tense when she’s gripping them like that.

It doesn’t really change anything, that it happened, but it also changes everything. Because last time you were here, it’d taken a minute before you felt like it was okay to curl up next to her in your bed, and this time you fall asleep with her chest pressed into your back, relishing each rise and fall.

This time you wake up first, and you know that’s how it’s supposed to be. You want to go and make her coffee, like she did for you last time, but you can’t bring yourself to leave her warmth so you just watch her instead. Eventually she begins to shift, and you can’t contain your excitement that she’s waking up and you get to start a whole new day together.

“That morning” and she’s groaning already because she’s barely awake but you sound like you’re energised and ready to get up and go. It’s not a real complaint, though, because you know this is what she lived with before. “That morning, I didn’t wake you up by banging on your door, did I? Can you believe it’s taken me this long to think of that?”

“No, you didn’t. You woke me up by bouncing the bed up and down like an idiot, and kissing my whole damn face until I opened my eyes.” You take it as a cue, and plant kisses over her face while she laughs and half-heartedly swats you away. “You know, I seem to remember I made you coffee last time.”

“I thought about it. But I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed.” She smiles at you and you know she understands exactly what you’re saying. You don’t like leaving her unless you absolutely have to. “I can go do it now.”

“Nah, we’ll go together.”

Together is pretty much how the rest of your weekend goes, and you’ve flown through the galaxies, and explored countless planets but you’ve never witnessed anything quite as beautiful as your family sitting at a table, groggy and sleepy, eating pancakes that you pour way too much syrup on, and laughing together. You don’t know if you’ve always been this sentimental, but there’s so much beauty in the way Monica smiles at you, the way she rolls her eyes when she forgets you’ve been gone for so long and you have no idea what band, or TV show she’s talking about. And it’s gorgeous, the way Maria looks at the two of you together, the way she smiles at you after you kiss her, the way she looks when she comes undone at night. You love the stars, you do, but they don’t compare to the Rambeaus, and they never could.

It flies by a little quicker than any of you would like, but you all understand that it’s not the last time, so Monica only grumbles a little when she has to leave for school on Monday morning. She doesn’t complain when you hug her for a little too long, or when you kiss her cheek seven times in a row and tell her you’ll be back. She makes you promise to say hello to Talos’s daughter, and when you say she’d better give you another hug so you can pass it along, she’s so willing that you can’t believe your brain ever forgot her.

Maria doesn’t have anywhere to be, and maybe it’s going to make it harder to say goodbye, but you let yourselves fall into bed again because Monica’s at school, not asleep next door, and you both want to take advantage of that. You should’ve left a few hours ago, really, but you know they’d send you a signal if they needed you, so you don’t worry too much. The extra time with her is worth the knowing looks Talos will shoot your way when you’re back.

The space suit is back on, the barely-worn pyjamas tucked into the drawer for next time, and you’re staring up at the clouds when she appears beside you and takes your hand. You wonder, briefly, if she’s going to ask where your head is at, but you think maybe you both know already.

“Do me a favour, next time?”

“Sure?”

“Try and land a little neater.” Your hand flies to your chest with mock-outrage and you pretend to be offended for all of half a second before you know you’re blushing.

“I was just excited to see you. I’m much better at nailing a landing than that, I promise.”

“Well show me next time.” She kisses your cheek, and you miss her touch as soon as it disappears. “It’s very cute that you were excited to see us, but it’d be even cuter if I didn’t have to worry about you blowing my porch up.”

You point away from the porch. “I could try landing over there?”

“Funny.”

“Next time I land, you’ll be so impressed. I swear.”

“Another thing? Next time, don’t wait two hours to kiss me.”

“You’ll be so impressed with my landing that _you’ll_ be kissing _me_.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

You don’t think you’ll get the landing next time, actually. You think you’ll be too excited again, but you promise yourself you’ll try. The other thing, though? You can do that.


End file.
